


I Feel Like a Person For a Moment of My Life

by TheGirlWithTheKite



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 'Swawesome Santa 2016, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And Bitty is kind of domy, BUT THAT'S HOW I ROLL OKAY, Blow Jobs, Dreamsharing, Established Relationship, Jack is kind of suby, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWithTheKite/pseuds/TheGirlWithTheKite
Summary: Being internet famous and actually famous are two very different things. But sometimes it can bring soulmates together.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [belislythindor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/belislythindor/gifts).



> This is my 'Swawesome Santa 2016 piece! I've never done a secret santa for fandom before!   
> Prompt: "Preferences: regency au, Harry Potter au. Soulmates au, Fluff & smut. Mutual pining, angst with a happy ending."  
> I went with soulmates (obviously), there's a good amount of fluff and smut, uh not a lot of mutual pining, maybe some angst if you squint enough. Definitely a happy ending.
> 
> The full title of this piece is "Honey, When You Kill the lights, and Kiss My Eyes, I Feel Like a Person For a Moment of My Life" from Hozier's To Be Alone

Jack rarely ever remembered his dreams; he sometimes would wake up in a cold sweat, but couldn’t recall what his subconscious had cooked up to torment him. Other times, Jack would wake up clearly remembering the detailed piecrusts, the dripping pie fillings, and overflowing baskets of apples. His teen years had been filled with confusion, wondering who the  _ fuck _ his soulmate could possibly be for their shared dreams to be almost exclusively about pie—every now and then there would be popup dreams of detailed skating routines.

But after meeting Bitty, it all kind of made sense.

Jack cracked one eye open, handcrafted pastry still spinning behind his closed eye. Jack sighed and then turned over, slinging his arm around the sleeping form beside him.

“Dreaming too loud again, Bits,” Jack mumbled into the tousled crown of hair.

Bitty hummed sleepily, pushing back into the circle of Jack’s arms. “Sorry, hmmm I was prepping before bed last night.”

Jack brushed his lips against Bitty’s ear, which caused Bitty to let a sleep addled chuckle.

“It’s fine, bé.”

Bitty pushed away slightly, turning in Jack’s arms, but still kept a small amount of space between their faces. It was only when they were this close that Jack could see the little freckles that dotted across Bitty’s nose and cheeks. He moved his hand so he could stroke Bitty’s cheek.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just about how lucky I am to have such an amazing soulmate.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “More like how lucky I am.”

Bitty just shook his head. “No, honey. I spent my whole life hoping you would be proud of me, staring at that little sunrise on my ankle; knowing my soulmate had the same one.”

“Sunset,” Jack corrected, which caused Bitty to roll his eyes. “I spent my whole life since I was five hoping that I would be good enough for my pastry dreaming soulmate. And then  _ you _ come along, baking up a storm and accepting me the way I am. How could I ask for more?”

“I think your nutritionist would be happy if I stopped cooking with lard.”

Jack rolled his eyes again. “You wanna stop cooking with lards, eh? Well I don’t think she would appreciate it that much.”

Bitty widened his eyes, “What are you talking about—” Bitty suddenly cut off with a groan, “You need to stop hanging out with Marty, his dad jokes are wearing off on you.”

Jack chuckled again. “Pretty sure I had the jokes before.”

Bitty snuggled in closer, “Can I go back to dreaming about pie?”

Jack tightened his arms, “You’re lucky it’s the off season, or I would get out of bed.”

He felt Bitty make a face, “Oh,  _ I’m lucky _ ?”

Jack decided it was better to let it go.

“Jack, honey, do you know where my good cufflinks are? The ones your parents got me?”

Jack peered out of bathroom, his toothbrush hanging out slightly from his mouth. “I think they’re still in the box in the top drawer of the wardrobe?”

Jack could almost hear Bitty’s frown.

“I already checked there.”

Jack spit into the sink and wiped his mouth, thinking hard about where the last time he had seen them, and if he tapped into their mind connection, so what.

“I think you put them in the drawer with the tie pins.”

“Why in Sam’s hell would I put them there—oh.”

Jack rounded the corner to see Bitty pulling the small black ysl box out of the drawer.

“This isn’t where we keep our cufflinks, this is the tie pins drawer. The cufflink drawer is for cufflinks.”

Jack wrapped his arms around Bitty from behind; Jack wasn’t fully dressed yet, but Bitty was—except for the cufflinks.

“Honey, you’re gonna rumple me. Put your suit on, the car is gonna be here in forty five minutes.” Despite his words, Bitty turned in Jack’s arms and reached up to Jack’s hair. “We also gotta do something about your bangs, I barely got my cowlick down, so you gotta push your boy band bangs up.”

“They’re not boy band bangs, they just grow like that.”

Bitty leaned up and kissed Jack’s jaw. “Please get dressed, sweetheart.”

Jack didn’t have to ask to know that Bitty was anxious, not because Jack wasn’t dressed, but because this was Bitty’s official debut as his soulmate. They were heading to a charity event, and while the public knew that Jack’s soulmate was a male vlogger, they had never appeared together—besides paparazzi pictures and selfies on social media. The event would be the initial showcase of their relationship, for everyone to see.

Bitty had slowly been becoming more and more obsessed with the event, his dreams intruding into Jack’s—but instead of the usual pies, it was suits and dresses and  _ anxiety _ . Which Jack definitely didn’t need. Both of their suits were matching, but their shirts and ties were different, Jack’s was a soft sky blue that matched his eyes and Bitty’s was an even softer pink.

Jack knew that the suits alone cost a fortune, having bought them from the store in New York when him and Bitty had gone on a shopping trip. The workers had initially looked at them in disdain, probably because Jack was dressed like a he was going to rob a Burger King, or at least how Bitty’s friends would describe him looking like.

After a few minutes, an older woman had approached them, who apparently knew who Jack was, and Jack maybe recognized—Bitty definitely did, but not in the familiar sense.

“Jack, is it? You’re Alicia’s son?” She had asked with an accent playing in her voice.

“Uh, yes,” Jack had responded, still not fully remembering who it was.

“Oh goodness, you look just like your father, but I wanted to make sure. I haven’t seen you in years! I just had brunch with your mother a few weeks ago, she mentioned you were playing somewhere in New England?” She asked, a smile on her face.

“Yes, in Providence. For the Falconers.”

The woman nodded. “What brings you to Manhattan?”

“Uh, I’m actually here with my soulmate.”

Her eyes had shifted to Bitty, who was almost vibrating with energy.

“Eric Bittle, ma’am. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Don’t call me ma’am, makes me feel old.”

“My mama raised me as a good southern boy, and I don’t want to break heart by being rude.”

The woman had just laughed.

“Jack, it was good to see you. Tell your mom I say hi.” And then she just sashayed away.

“Oh my god,” Bitty had hissed, “That was fucking  _ Cate Blanchett _ .”

“Who?” Jack whispered back.

“ _ Oh my god _ ,  _ Jack _ .”

After that the workers had paid attention, and they both left with everything they needed for the next few events that Jack had for the off season.

When Jack finished getting dressed for the event there was still more than twenty minutes left until the car was scheduled to show up.

“Jack, honey, are you done?”

“Yeah, Bits.”

“Then get in here, and let me put this goop in your hair.”

The event went as well as it could have, which means there was no disaster. Everyone Jack introduced Bitty to easily accepted him. If there was anyone who wasn’t Hockey Royalty, but still recognized Jack, Bitty would supply the name. He didn’t verbally say names, but the name would show up in Jack’s brain tinged in the same sweetness that came with everything Bitty shared through their connection.

It was almost one am was they crawled into the back of the car. Jack was exhausted after spending hours basically schmoozing people, Bitty’s hand was a steady presence on the small of his back, even if Bitty was giggling to himself, still tipsy off of the wine he had drank.

Jack settled in the farthest seat with Bitty curled into his side.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, eh?”

Bitty nuzzled his face against Jack’s shoulder, “No, you were right. I shouldn’t have worried, but I didn’t want people to think I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Jack tightened his arm that was around Bitty’s back. “No one would think that, we’re together for a reason.”

Bitty picked up Jack’s other hand, playing with his fingers. “Sometimes soulmates are just platonic, or they don’t work out the way you think. Sometimes two people love each other so much, but they meet at the wrong time and end up being all wrong for each other.”

“Bits, do you think that way about us?”

Bitty snapped his eyes up to Jack’s. “No, of course not. I just don’t want other people to think that about us.”

“I don’t think they did.”

Bitty just hummed in response.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence, but a comfortable one. Bitty played with Jack’s hand, running his fingers over Jack’s, and Jack swiped a line back and forth with the pad of his thumb on Bitty’s shoulder.

It took a little while to get back to their apartment, but they weren’t in a rush. Bitty was on the verge of dozing when they finally arrived home.

They slowly pushed out of the car, Jack tipped the driver on his way out. Bitty slipped his arm under Jack’s suit jacket, to hold him closer as they made their way in and to the elevator. His close and warm presence next to Jack was able to calm him, a warm bright spot that had been burrowed into his side all night, something to focus on when he became overwhelmed by the crowd and the constant stimulus. Sometimes, if Jack closed his eyes and focused hard enough, he could almost see a golden light on the edge of his vision where Bitty was.

Bitty unlocked the front door and the two went inside, kicking off their shoes before heading towards the bedroom to get undressed and ready for bed. Jack stripped down to his underwear, carefully hanging up his suit before heading back out in the main room and flopping face first on to the bed. After a few moments, he felt the bed dip next to him. Jack turned his face to see Bitty in his pajamas slipping under the covers.

“Are you actually going to get in the bed, honey, or?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack said. He shimmied around on the bed, pulling the covers over himself without getting out of the bed.

“Are you done?” Bitty asked, a laugh in his voice.

“Yes. I’m comfy now.”

Bitty rolled in closer to Jack, and pressed his freezing cold toes to Jack’s calves.

“Do you have to do that?”

“Yes, you didn’t turn the heated floors on, so I’m cold.”

Jack turned and wrapped his arms around Bitty. “If I gotta feel your cold toes, I gotta be able to feel the rest of you.”

“Oh, really, Captain. I thought you were tired.”

Jack pressed his lips against Bitty’s cheek, “Not anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

Jack just hummed as he trailed kisses across Bitty’s face to his lips. Bitty kissed him back, his tongue darting out to deepen the kiss and Jack opened his mouth to him, letting Bitty take control of the kiss. As Jack started to pull Bitty on top of him to deepen the kiss further Bitty asked a question.

“How do you want this to go?”

Jack pondered that question for the moment, but he knew the answer. “I want you to fuck me.”

Bitty laughed, shifting between Jack’s legs. “Well, if you put it like that.”

He leaned down and kissed Jack again, chest to chest, his hands on Jack’s face. Jack could feel Bitty hardening against him, their hips started to roll against each other. Bitty pulled his hand away to push Jack’s leg up to get better friction against him. The thin material of Jack’s boxers slipped against the soft cotton of Bitty’s sleep shorts.

Jack pulled his hands from Bitty’s hair to start push his shirt off.

“Off, off, off,” he chanted between kisses.

Bitty pushed back onto his knees and easily pulled the offending article of clothing off. He eyed Jack’s boxers where there was a wet patch already forming from precum.

“Shut up.”

“Hadn’t said anything yet, honey.”

Bitty hooked his fingers under the elastic of the shorts and made eye contact with Jack before pulling them down his thighs and off; Jack’s cock bounced as it flopped out.

Bitty hummed to himself before scooting further down the bed; he wrapped his lips around the head of it, his hand stroking the part that wasn’t in his mouth. He began to bob his head in earnest, swirling his tongue around the tip before going back down, a low hum still in his throat.

Jack threw his head back onto the pillow, a deep moan spilling out, his hands twisting in the sheets by his side—one of Bitty’s biggest rules was that Jack wasn’t allowed to touch him while he gave head, that it gave him too much anxiety.

Bitty pulled off for a second, just to whisper, “Lube?”

Jack nodded reaching his hand out to the drawer, fumbling blindly for the bottle. When his fingers closed around the bottle, he simply yanked his hand out of the drawer, not caring if he knocked anything over—desperate to feel Bitty’s fingers inside of him.

Bitty poured a small amount between his fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the lube, and then he got back to business.

His head moved not as quick as before, but still at a steady pace. His finger pressed slightly against Jack’s hole, not penetrating it completely, but applying a nice pressure. Jack rolled his hips, trying to get his point across, but it only earned him the reward of having Bitty hold down his hips with his free hand.

“Uh uh, Captain Zimmerman, who’s in charge?” Bitty punctuated his sentence by finally slipping the tip of his index finger inside of Jack.

“You,” Jack gasped out, sensation overwhelming him.

That was another rule…well, less of a rule but more a general consensus. Bitty was always in charge when it came to bedroom activities, they had both learned early on that Bitty liked the control, and Jack liked giving his up. It was an easy trade off.

He hummed again before pressing his mouth against Jack’s dick again, working his finger in and out, opening Jack up.

Jack almost came after Bitty worked a second finger in, scissoring them and then twisting them to find Jack’s prostate.

Jack moved his hand from the sheets to Bitty’s shoulder, “If you—I’m gonna— _ Bitty _ .”

Bitty pulled off of Jack’s dick, his fingers still working. “Yeah, baby? Are you gonna come if I keep sucking you while I’m fingering you?”

Jack just nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Okay, baby. Let me finish getting you ready.”

He nodded again.

Bitty turned his whole attention to working his fingers in and out of Jack, moving up to three easily.

“Are you ready, honey?”

Jack nodded again.

“Jack, use your words.”

“Yes,” it came out slightly broken.

Bitty just smiled. He grabbed the bottle of lube again, pouring a good amount into his hands to spread on the shaft of his dick and around Jack’s hole. Bitty pressed the tip of his dick against Jack, making eye contact with him before slowly pushing in.

Jack groaned while Bitty slowly pushed in, and when Bitty finally bottomed out his hips pressed firmly into Jack’s. He pulled out a small amount before rocking back in again; he kept up that steady and slow rhythm, knowing it would rip Jack apart from the constant stimulation.

Jack couldn’t keep the noises in his mouth; he had always been loud, never having the need to be. Moans and groans came out unfiltered, unchecked. He wasn’t much for talking during sex, but the sounds made up for it.

Bitty kept up that steady in and out rhythm, his hands on Jack’s thighs—holding him in place so he could drive into Jack’s tight heat.

“Do you want me to go faster or harder? Use your words.”

“Both,” Jack rasped out between moans.

Bitty just smiled before pulling out and shoving back in, starting up a new rhythm that was both harder and faster. One that was going to make him lose steam very quickly.

“Touch yourself, baby. I wanna see you cum.”

Jack’s hands moved from where he had been gripping the headboard—he didn’t remember making the conscious decision to put them there—to wrapping one around his cock and his other over Bitty’s hand on his thigh.

Bitty was usually very quiet during sex, only a few quiet grunts and groans leaving his mouth, but he talked quite a bit as he neared the end.

“C’mon, Jack, baby, I wanna see you cum from me fucking you.  _ Lord, you’re so fucking tight. _ C’mon, baby.”

Jack fist moved over his cock even faster, he could feel the tight heat in his stomach coiling even tighter, so tight it was gonna break, and he was gonna cum all over himself.

“Kiss me,” he managed to get out.

Bitty leaned over and kissed him with what could barely be classified as kissing, it was just their lips pressed together. Jack’s hand still jerked between them, and then that hot coil in the pit of stomach broke, and he was cumming.

Bitty groaned again, pulling back to push further into Jack, chasing his own orgasm. His hips lost their rhythm, and then he was cumming, filling Jack with it. Jack’s hand still slowly moved on his cock, enjoying the feeling.

Bitty pulled out and rolled onto the bed next to Jack.

“I forgot how much of a workout that is.”

Jack let out a soft chuckle, still a little soft around the edges from his orgasm.

“Lemme get you cleaned up,” Bitty whispered, his words going soft around the edges and his accent heavier, the way it always was after he came. He pushed off the bed and into the en suite. He came back after a few moments, a wet warm washcloth in hand.

Bitty wiped it between Jack’s legs and across his chest, and when he was done he tossed it in the general direction of the hamper.

“Gross,” Jack mumbled.

“I’ll clean it up in the morning. I just wanna cuddle.” Bitty wrapped his arms around Jack’s middle, his face resting on Jack’s chest. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Bits.”

Jack could feel Bitty hiding his smile against him.

When Jack met Bitty, he hadn’t even intended to have any thoughts about him of any capacity. They were both going to be Ellen, Bitty had been about to release his book—it was half recipe, half memoir. He had apparently been in the latest batch of YouTubers with book deals. Jack was also there to talk about his book as wel, which was also a memoir.

Bitty had gone first, his segment to be shorter than Jack’s.

Jack remembered standing in the green room, watching Bitty’s interview on the TV.

“So, Eric, you’re twenty-four and your book just came out,  _ Baking with Bitty by Eric Bittle _ .”

“Yes, it did,” He had responded, a smile bright on his face.

“I’ve read it, and I really enjoy how each chapter starts with a recipe and then delves into a story.”

“Well, Ellen, I tried to recreate my videos in that aspect. I usually start my videos with a recipe, show how to make it, and finish them with what’s currently happening in my life. A lot of my videos end up being about Hockey.”

“That’s right! You played college hockey all four years, right?”

“Yeah,” he had blushed, a proud smile on his face. “I was actually the first openly gay hockey captain in the National College Athletic Association.”

“Before hockey, you did figure skating, correct?”

He had smiled again, even wider, “Yes, I started skating when I was 7 in Georgia, and then after I started high school I switched to hockey. Samwell University, which is just outside of Boston, offered me a scholarship, and I went to play with them. Moving from Georgia to Massachusetts was a big life change for me, and I try to capture a lot of that in my book.”

Jack had been amazed, that this man had switched to hockey after figure skating, and that he was so good at hockey that he was named captain. The guy had looked small when they bustled him pass earlier.

“Now, and not to give any spoilers away,” Ellen had started again, “A large portion of the book discusses what it was like growing up gay in the south, and the differences between your hometown, the town you moved to, and your college town.”

He had taken a visible deep breath, almost steadying himself. “Yes. In middle school, I dealt with a lot of severe bullying, to the point where my family moved towns and schools because of it. My dad was the high school football coach, and it was the football team who were causing most of the problems. My dad got a new job, and I was able to start over. That’s why I had to give up skating.”

“What made you be able to stay strong through all of that?”

His smile had been even more blinding than before. “My soulmate. Well, technically my  _ soulmark _ . I was born with mine, so I’ve known my whole life that they were out there somewhere waiting for me. During the height of the bullying, my mark actually changed. The words  _ please don’t leave  _ appeared underneath it, and I knew it was the universe telling me to hold out and wait for that person. That they would still love me despite everything that was going on. And here I am because of it.” He had spread is arms out.

“So have you found your soulmate yet?”

“No,” he laughed, “Still looking. My mark says _keep_ _going_ now, so I know I’m getting closer.”

“Are you worried anyone is going to try to fake their soulmarks now?”

“Oh no, I think I’ll know my soulmate! I know I’ve been projecting my dreams on them, which I sure they just  _ love _ !”

After that, Ellen had started to wrap up the interview.

But Jack had felt frozen to the spot. He had remembered his own soul mark changing when he was seventeen, the soft cursive of  _ please don’t leave _ slowly showing up, the catalyst for him coming clean to his parents and doctor about where all of his extra pills had been going; the catalyst for him quietly going to rehab and telling the truth to his therapist. How, even though he didn’t go first in the draft, he was still able to cope with it correctly even if his hands shook so much when he held up the jersey for the Habs, and how he didn’t stress or freak out when he had gotten traded to the Falconers.

Jack had done the mental math, when Jack was going through his turmoil and anxiety, this man—Eric—had been dealing with severe bullying.

But that hadn’t been all. His hand had moved to trace his soulmark on his thigh through his pants, because underneath his it said  _ keep going _ . Another reminder from the universe, this time telling him that he was on the right path. And the mention of the  _ dreams _ , the dreams that had been following him since after rehab, dreams of food and baking and all sorts of things that Jack didn’t dream about.

“Jack, you’re up,” his handler had said.

Jack had turned, “I need to talk to him.”

“Who?” she had asked, her brow furrowing.

“The guy that was just interviewed.”

“Okay? I’ll see what I can do.”

His own interview had been a blur, just the general rehashing of overcoming his anxiety, his daily struggles with it, balancing hockey into his life healthily. He hadn’t mentioned his soulmark. It was a part of his story he had never told. Only his parents, his exes, and his teammates had ever seen it.

Jack had been anxious to get back to the dressing rooms and meet him,  _ Eric _ .

He had been waiting outside of Jack’s dressing room, bouncing on the balls of his feet, holding a copy of his book.

Before Jack could even open his mouth, to say the words  _ I think we’re soulmates _ , Eric had started talking.

“Hi, Jack! Your handler told my handler you wanted to meet? I guess you wanted a copy of my book, ha ha. I don’t think a lot of these recipes will be approved by your nutritionist, I know the one at Samwell hated how much I baked.” He had shoved the book into Jack’s hands immediately.

Jack had realized then that Eric was just as equally nervous as he was, but for very different reasons. “I, uh, no. I didn’t want a copy of your book.”

Eric’s face had fallen, “What do you—”

“ _ Ithinkwe’resoulmates _ .” The words had just rushed out of Jack’s mouth.

Eric had looked taken a back.

Jack had taken a deep breath to calm himself. “Your soulmark changed for the first time in September of 2008, didn’t it? You dream about baking almost every night, last night there were mini pies as hockey pucks—I thought maybe our dreams had blended together, but you play hockey as well, so who knows. And  _ keep going _ showed up at the end February in 2017. You didn’t mention it, but in July of 2013 it had  _ it’s gonna be okay _ . Hell, I would even show you mine, but it’s on my thigh. But it’s a little black line drawing of a sunset. Where’s yours?”

“On my foot. And it’s a sunrise.”

“What?”

Eric had smiled hugely, “It’s a sunrise. Why would it be a sunset, a sunset is the end of the day, and the sunrise is the start.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you thinking about?” Bitty’s voice broke the silence between them.

Jack looked down at Bitty, who was still curled around him. “About how we met.”

Bitty hid is blush against Jack’s chest, “Lord, that was so embarrassing. I thought you wanted a copy of my book, and I was so nervous because I was gonna meet Jack Zimmerman, I was such a fanboy.”

“I don’t even remember what I said during my interview because I was so focused on meeting you. I had been waiting for so long, and you were so close.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“Yes, you are.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! (also I signed up for this back when I thought I would still be able to update Erase regularly, and I wasn't about to cheat someone out of their present. Erase should be updated in January, don't worry). 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at [TheLittlestCaptainAmerica](http://thelittlestcaptainamerica.tumblr.com)


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